are of the same tribe as wizards and magicians, sorcerers and
medicine-men, the celebrators of cruel and unholy rites. The
priests of Moloch, of Chemosh, of Baal, are the dark and ancient
ancestors of the same vocation. All who have trafficked in the
terrors of mankind, who have gained power by trading on
superstitious imaginings, who have professed to propitiate wrathful
and malignant spirits, to stand between men and their dreadful
Maker--all these have contributed their share to the dark and sad
burden which the priest has to bear. As soon as man, rising out of
pure savagery, began to have any conception of the laws of nature,
he found in himself a deep instinct for happiness, a terror of
suffering and death; yet, at the same time, he found himself set in
a world where afflictions seemed to be rained down upon humanity by
some mysterious, unseen, and awful power. Could man believe that
God wished him well, who racked him with cruel pain, sent plagues
among his cattle, swept away those whom he loved, destroyed his
crops with hail and thunderbolts, and at the end of all dragged him
reluctant and shuddering into the darkness, out of a world where so
much was kind and cheerful, and where, after all, it was sweet to
live?

He turned in his despair to any one who could profess to hold out
any shield over him, who could claim to read the dreadful mind of
God, and to propitiate His mercy. Even then a demand created a
supply. Men have always loved power and influence; and so spirits
of sterner and more tenacious mould, who could perhaps despise the
lesser terrors of mankind, and who desired, above all things, to
hold the destinies of others in their hands, to make themselves
felt, naturally seized the opportunity of surrounding themselves
with the awe and dignity that the supposed possession of deeper